


private life in a public place

by Siriusstuff



Series: Generation X++: AO3 Tag Generator Prompt Fics [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, College, Derek and Stiles are boyfriends, Derek and Stiles are the Same Age, M/M, Prompt Fic, Riding, Semi-Public Sex, sex in a restroom, slight exhibitionism, very brief oral sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 17:28:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4271784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siriusstuff/pseuds/Siriusstuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek wants to keep Stiles satisfied more than he wants to get to his next class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	private life in a public place

**Author's Note:**

> I got two prompts from the AO3 Tag Generator, both with "library" in them: "semi-public library sexytimes," and "brief library smut." I combined them for this fic.
> 
> I figure when people think "sex in a library" they think of sex happening in the stacks. Not this time, sorry.
> 
> I've been kind of fixated on bottom Derek. Here's some bottom Stiles for a change.

“Soooo… _when’s_ your next class?”

Derek had just walked out of another ass-numbing lecture when who should he see waiting against the wall the other side of the hall but Stiles. They hadn’t seen one another since the night before last. All they’d done was share phone chats and texts in the interval. Both had imminent mid-terms and knew it was best to keep apart so they could do some decent studying instead of fucking constantly, but so far they hadn’t been too successful keeping apart.

Stiles looked irresistible leaning against the wall just watching Derek get closer.

Derek already knew what Stiles was thinking.

Stiles didn’t even say hello, just gave Derek “the look” and asked, “Sooo… _when’s_ your next class?”

“Three. I _can’t_ skip it.”

“We have fifty minutes.”

“Minus two.”

Stiles leaned in close and muttered the words, hardly breathing any sound into them, “I need fucking right now.”

When he put it that way he knew Derek couldn’t resist.

The Gerard Argent Memorial Library was twelve stories high and boasted one of the largest collections of books in the country. On the eleventh and twelfth floors the stacks were home to books so utterly obscure there were few visitors. The mens rooms on those floors, however, _were_ busy, especially the eleventh floor’s facilities.

Derek and Stiles had fucked in the stalls there only once before, so were still pretty novice at semi-public sex. In fact, no one had come in while they were banging in there, that first time.

Today when they entered, someone’s feet, pants rumpled around his shoes, were visible in the second stall, but the duo didn’t care. They went into the last stall, the big one for the handicapped, where they’d fucked before.

It had taken them six minutes to get there.

“Forty minutes,” Derek whispered in Stiles’s ear, then licked it.

“Stop counting,” Stiles responded, louder, with a wanton smile.

Despite what had to be a lot of shooting and spilling of jizz in that restroom the floors and walls were always clean. The place never smelled nasty either. Derek suspected some of the cleaning staff sometimes got in on the sex action so kept the place spotless, that way the fun could go on with no one noticing or complaining.

Stiles hooked his backpack on the door and hung Derek’s there too.

Stiles’s next move was to take Derek’s face between his hands and start kissing.

Derek moaned a little, involuntarily, when his tongue met Stiles’s. It had been more than twenty four hours since they’d kissed last, so he was hungry for it.

They were making those soft little sniffling, smacking sounds. Whoever was in that second stall had to be overhearing them. Still, they didn’t care.

When he stopped for breath Stiles asked, unbuttoning Derek’s jeans and pushing them down a little, “Don’t ya _wanna_ fuck me, bae?”

He loved asking Derek that question.

“ _All_ the time, _bae-bee_ ,” Derek answered.

They were trying to whisper but their voices had gotten a little smoky.

Stiles pulled down Derek’s briefs and got down in a crouch. He pitched up his eyes at Derek as he mouthed his dickhead, knowing that seared his boyfriend with desire, looking up like that with a mouthful and his eyes on Derek’s.

Derek groaned out loud and now the audio portion of their show was underway for their unseen one-man audience.

Derek knew Stiles wasn’t going to suck for long. He just wanted to make him crazy and so hard he could ride that cock like a flagpole.

Derek’s dick had been the first one Stiles ever had in his mouth, when they first got together. “I suck at sucking,” Stiles used to say then, and it was kind of true, but only for the first couple times. Not that Derek ever complained.

Of course now Stiles was adept at sucking cock, even better than Derek was, maybe. Derek could never get Stiles off with just his mouth unless he had a finger or two up Stiles’s ass the same time. But maybe that had nothing to do with Derek’s sucking skills at all. Maybe Stiles was just born to be butt-fucked.

 _That_ was Derek’s theory.

When he came off Derek’s dick Stiles kept one hand around it, the ever thoughtful lover.

“How much time we have left?” he asked, as he stood again.

“Dunno,” Derek said from within his thickening sex fog. “—Or care.—‘Stop counting,’” he quoted.

Stiles gave him a big dazzling grin and started shedding his pants. He took his shoes off too and his pants off completely. His cock was fully hard already and sprang free once out of his pants. Stiles was commando. That’s when Derek realized his boo had planned their little venture that day.

“Have a seat, bae-bee,” Stiles said, retrieving a little bottle of lube from his backpack.

When Derek saw it he said, “Good gay Boy Scout.”

“Just sit—sit, boy.”

“Dog jokes. Always funny.” Derek planted his bare ass on the toilet seat.

In truth, they didn’t use a lot of lube anymore. Stiles was a cherry virgin when they’d fucked the first time, but, as Derek swore, Stiles’s butt hole was meant for fucking and in no time he was truly skilled, gifted even, in working his ass around Derek’s cock, as if that’s what Nature made it for. They’d found just the right amount of lube for the ideal balance between delicious friction and smooth lubrication. It wasn’t all that much.

Stiles ran his slick fingers up the length of Derek’s rigid dick. He had to groan again. Stiles’s breath was already coming in little gasps as he rubbed lube on his asshole too. He wiped his fingers clean on some toilet paper then, facing Derek, straddled his lap. He oriented himself over Derek’s dick-pole and eased down till his hole and Derek’s cock connected.

They were talking with just their looks then.

Bracing his hands on Derek’s shoulders Stiles squirmed until that thick hot thing was wedged just inside him. Their faces were very close. Stiles said “Yeah…” but drew it out into a long sigh as he sank all the way down and Derek’s dick found itself in its own private paradise.

“Oh…” softly moaning, “…feels so good.” Either of them might have said that.

Stiles shifted his arms so that now his hands were braced behind him, on Derek’s knees, for the leverage he needed in order to ride up and down.

Derek pulled up Stiles’s t-shirt and put the wadded-up front of it over Stiles’s head, behind his neck. Now Stiles looked mostly naked to Derek, his skin hot as Derek’s hands swarmed over his chest and down his sides. Derek loved feeling all the lean muscles in Stiles’s body, just under his nervy skin.

Stiles’s head was tilted back a little and his eyes were closed. Derek couldn’t have claimed he didn’t want to intrude into Stiles’s private ecstasy, since he was already intruding eight inches up his asshole. But he did, reaching up and pulling Stiles’s head closer, so they could kiss again, loud kisses sort of popping every time their mouths parted.

“Say it—say it to me, Stiles,” Derek begged, between kisses, as if they were in private.

“ _Say what, Derek_ ,” Stiles teased, in a quiet whisper, his eyes still half closed.

“ _Say it_ …”

Stiles pressed his lips close to Derek’s ear and whispered, “ _Fuck me Derek fuck me fuck me I love you bae-bee_ …” He intoned each syllable with its own emphasis, then stuck his tongue in Derek’s ear and then kissed all around that part of Derek’s face, and all the time kept on riding.

“ _Unngh_! _Agghhh_!” abruptly interrupted their love-making, freezing the pair in place, in mid stroke.

Stiles clapped a hand over his mouth, to prevent its bursting with laughter. His effort was going to fail though.

They heard, apparently from that second stall, the toilet paper dispenser roll and roll and roll. There were sounds of hurried movement and shuffling. The stall door banged against its neighbor stall, water flowed and then the restroom door swung open as if something—someone—had barreled through it.

Stiles laughed like a loon; Derek giggled, more at Stiles than the fact that their sole fellow occupant in the mens room had jerked off, no doubt to their sex noises.

“Oh my fucking god, I bet he didn’t even dry his hands!” Stiles gasped between breathless laughs.

“At least he washed them, though.” Derek was only assuming that.

Then Derek frowned. Time was running out. The clock, all lovers’ age old enemy, was ticking onwards.

Stiles knew just looking at Dereks’ face what he was thinking.

“What?” Stiles cried. “No! _No_!” He started kissing Derek frantically.

“Stiles,” Derek entreated, “my next class is halfway across campus!”

“No! No, _no_.—Fuck me, Derek, fuck fuck fuck fuck _fuck me_!”

“Then let’s stand up so I can fuck you. I can’t move this way.”

Stiles made no reply, just dismounted, stood and turned around. He bent forward just a little bit, then glanced up at the stall door.

“Wait a sec,” he said, as he took their backpacks off the hooks. He placed his hands on the door, bent over more and backed his ass into Derek’s crotch, so Derek could really pound him.

As well supported as Stiles was Derek could lean over him without fear of their toppling.

Anchoring his cock in Stiles’s hole again Derek wrapped his arms round his bae and fucked him like there was no tomorrow. Fact was, there were about only eight minutes till Derek’s class.

Stiles was nearly howling. They were alone in that restroom but his howls could probably be heard in the hallway, and Stiles might have howled even if they _weren’t_ alone.

“My dick up your ass feel good?” Derek panted.

“Oh god, yes!” Stiles affirmed, quoting from every porno ever made.

Derek kneaded Stile’s pecs, feeling his way down along stomach muscles, farther down into his pubes where Derek found Stiles madly jerking his cock.

Derek could tell Stiles was close to losing it, about to shoot. A scent came off Stiles’s skin during sex, after fucking was well underway and he was overheated. It was human musk, a cocktail of pheromones. Derek delighted in the smell and when it struck his nostrils he crushed Stiles against himself, pulled him and himself upright, making whatever adjustments necessary for leverage. Then he really punched his dick up into Stiles with every thrust.

Stiles had said he needed fucking and Derek made sure his need got filled.

Stiles climaxed with a trembling cry.

From over his shoulder Derek saw the first shot of semen fountain up and land who knew where, everywhere.

As he loved to do whenever Stiles was in an orgasm Derek pressed up into him as far as he could get and stayed there while Stiles came. He wrapped a hand around Stiles’s mouth then tilted his head back with the pressure. Stiles moaned into it. His body quaked and then Derek climaxed, almost to his own surprise as little micro-tremors deep in Stiles’s guts quivered around Derek’s dick and sent him over the edge.

Derek came stifling his groans against Stiles’s neck. Deep shaking breaths followed, and Stiles’s giggles followed those.

Separated, Stiles opened his backpack again, taking out wet wipes. Derek smirked at how well-thought out Stiles’s sex plans had been—except for the timing. He was definitely going to be late to his next class.

Post-orgasm Derek didn’t really care though, not as much as no-orgasm Derek would have cared.

They hastily cleaned up, both themselves and their play area.

At the sinks Derek washed his hands, face, ran his fingers through his hair.

“What’s _your_ next class?” he asked Stiles.

“Ugh, ‘Social Restraint versus Personal Power in the Victorian Novel,’” Stiles sighed. “We’re reviewing.—Everyone’s in a coma in that lecture, including the professor.—I could use the nap though.”

“Lucky you,” Derek snarked.

“Shush, baby. You done right by your man.”

Derek looked smug.

Outside the restroom, Stiles took Derek’s face in his hands again, kissed him over and over, with soft pecks.

“The man of my dreams,” Stiles told him.

“The man of your _wet_ dreams,” Derek corrected.

“The man of _all_ my dreams,” Stiles assured him.

Exchanging kisses all the way down, they took the elevator to the ground floor. Back in daylight and open air, poised to part, Derek asked, “Do I look like I just had sex?”

Stiles laughed and laughed.

”Really,” Derek insisted, “what am I gonna look like when I walk into class?”

“Like you’re the luckiest fucking guy in the whole fucking world,” Stiles answered.

All Derek could do was laugh too as he kissed Stiles one more time before turning and heading off to where he needed to be.

He knew Stiles was absolutely right.

**Author's Note:**

> AO3 Tag Generator: http://generatorland.com/usergenerator.aspx?id=9094


End file.
